


Like a Good Ringleader

by AddisonZhang



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Depression, Insanity, M/M, Pedophilia, Self-Sacrifice, dubcon, protecting loved ones
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-15
Updated: 2014-09-15
Packaged: 2018-02-17 11:49:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2308655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AddisonZhang/pseuds/AddisonZhang
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He hates every second of it, but he'll still do it...</p>
<p>For them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like a Good Ringleader

He’s trying not to shiver, praying that the rest of his body will behave the way that his right hand always manages to. It’s almost as if it’s the only part of him that can handle this anymore—but then again, it isn’t really part of him, is it? It’s something Kelvin gave to him, so perhaps it’s still Kelvin’s after all.

The old man always keeps the house too cold. Chilly, damp, and dark: the way the cellar where they kept Lord Phantomhive must have been, Kelvin says.

It hadn’t always been this bad. At least, Joker remembers times when it had been warm here—so, so warm compared to when they were out on the streets, huddled under blankets, so wet that their skin never stopped peeling off—compared to that hell, being with Kelvin was inevitably better. Wasn’t it?

“What’s the matter with you, Joker my boy?” his _father_ complains, giving him a slap on the face only slightly harder than he’s used to.

It hurt a lot more when he was younger, but even still—Joker was never very young when he was with Kelvin. He’d been fifteen or sixteen when the philanthropist had come to rescue him and the little ones he’d been protecting from the slow and painful death that the sewers had waiting for discarded children like them.

How was he supposed to know that their ‘savior’ was a twisted old pervert? And if he _had_ known, would he have cared at that point? All that mattered was getting those kids to safety, and still, that’s all he cares about: keeping them safe.

That’s why he does all of this, right? Sometimes he has to remind himself.

“What is it? You’re not willing today, is that it?” Kelvin snaps, clearly running out of patience. This is the tone that makes Joker fearful because it means that _father_ is unhappy, and when he’s unhappy he gets ideas.

When Joker opens his mouth to say something, Kelvin knocks the words right out of him with another strike and all that comes out is a little noise like a cough. “Go get Wendy and Peter then, you disobedient little brat.”

He’s twenty four years old now—

“No! No, no, father, sorry! Just feelin’ a little cold.”

—this has been his job for the past nine years—

He reaches out a thin, bare arm—the real one—to touch Kelvin just how he knows he likes it. But the old man shoves him off. “I _said_ go get Wendy and Peter. Or just Peter. He’ll do fine.”

—and he can’t stop because he’s the shepherd. He has to protect his sheep.

“No, I want to,” he lies with a smile. Even though his face is red from the blows that he won’t stop even though he could, and even though his tall, naked form is clearly more powerful than the crippled old pervert could ever hope to be, he hurries to crouch between Kelvin’s stump legs and get it over with.

He licks and sucks like he’s been dying to do it for hours, hoping that his fervor will make Kelvin forget all about the hesitation moments before. There’s goosebumps covering his body. He hates being like this—completely naked and vulnerable _again_ before the man that was supposed to protect them. He hates to let anyone see the place where the prosthetic meets his flesh.

_“It’s my right to see it. You’ve got nothing to hide from me, boy, I put you together from scratch, after all,”_ the old man used to say. Back before Phantomhive destroyed his mind for good. Back when there might have been some sort of twisted sense of affection between _father_ and _son._

“Your mouth is boring,” Kelvin complains, “you’re too big. You don’t even choke anymore.” He’s barely hard in Joker’s mouth. The squishy, wet feeling of the organ against his tongue makes him feel sick to his stomach.

_Better ‘ee than one of the young ones,_ he tells himself.

It’s not long enough to choke him in this state, but he sucks it back as far as he can and raises his tongue to meet it, making a gagging noise on purpose. Kelvin gives a satisfied little groan.

Joker never wanted to do this. Not even one time. At first it was to protect Beast. When he’d noticed the way that Kelvin had looked at the children, the odd way that he gazed at their broken bodies—not with fear or disgust, but with a hungry intrigue—Joker had naturally assumed that he might target the lovely young woman, if anyone. So when Kelvin summoned him that first time—told him to be a good boy for father—he had done it without a second thought. They owed him so much. If someone was going to have to pay the price, Joker wanted it to be him and no one else.

“Uurrgh enough, enough!” Kelvin snaps suddenly, twisting a bunch of bright orange hair up in his fat fist and yanking Joker’s head back. The tip of his cock jabs him in the eye, but Kelvin doesn’t even notice. “Come up on father’s lap like a good boy, won’t you Lord Phantomhive?”

Joker closes his eyes.

How did it get to be like this? Someday he was going to be deemed too big to fulfill the repulsive fantasy and thrown away for good, leaving someone else to suffer in his place.

He gulps back a wave of nausea and awkwardly crawls up onto the man. Hovering above his semi-erection, Joker’s head towers over Kelvin. He has to bend his back down low to become smaller like _father_ likes. “Come now, Ciel. Go ahead and fuck yourself on father’s dick.”

Kelvin doesn’t even bother preparing him anymore. He used to, but now he won’t. He’s too big, he’s too loose, anyway. _Ciel_ would have been tighter. _Ciel_ would have bled, so Joker should too.

It’s almost impossible to get it inside with Joker being unstretched and Kelvin not quite hard enough. Joker reaches back to probe himself open, closing his eyes and bowing his head in shame as he does it, completely revolted by his own actions, but in a second Kelvin smacks his hand away. He roughly grabs on to Joker’s hips and shoves him down on his penis.

It doesn’t go in. They just slap noisily together and Kelvin starts laughing low in his throat, the cackle of a predator. Joker feels his naked body grow even colder.

“Such a stubborn little hole you have, my lord Phantomhive.” He raises a hand to his mouth and spits into it, hacking up phlegm from deep in his throat and then reaching around to smear it in the cleft of Joker’s ass.

He can’t help but shutter in disgust, but he still doesn’t say a word.

“Go on, try again, boy,” Kelvin instructs, guiding their bodies together. It takes a few more times but eventually the old man’s cock fills him up.

_“What happened to your face, Joker?” Beast asked in alarm one morning when they were younger. She raised a trembling hand to touch the violet swell of his black eye._

_He had snuck in that night, as always. He never wanted them to see him after he returned from a visit with father. He was doing it for them, yes, but he didn’t want them to see his face afterward—shiny and slick from the tears, crimson red from the humiliation. They needed to believe that he was their strong leader._

_“What happened? Tell me,” she begged him, her pretty black waves bouncing against her shoulders as she spoke in earnest._

_“I disobeyed father,” he admitted with a grimace. It was true. That night had been the one and only time he’d directly disobeyed the man. It was the first time Joker been asked to do anything more than use his mouth. He was terrified so he refused. Back then Kelvin had had all his limbs, so he simply shoved the boy down face first into the pillows and forced him._

_“Well…are you alright?” she pried, obviously concerned for him. He didn’t want her concern, it just made him feel weak. He was strong for doing this to protect her, wasn’t he? He didn’t want pity. “You’re limping a little.”_

_“I’m fine, Beast. Where’s Dagger?”_

_Her gaze fell, slightly dejected. “He’s…he’s with the others,” she mumbled. Glancing up at him again, Beast drew her hand up against his mouth. He flinched slightly at the touch._

_“Beast, what are ‘ee—?”_

_“Your lip’s cut.”_

_The bloody lip, the black eye…a million worse things all over the rest of his body, inside of his body that he could never let any of them see…he just wanted to get away from her and sleep for a long, long time. But to his shock, she leaned her face up to kiss him._

_With a little gasp, he jerked away from her. “Don’t ‘ee be doin’ that!” he cried. Her brows furrowed in confusion._

_“But, Joker, I….”_

_He didn’t want her to touch him, but he couldn’t possibly bear it if she kissed him—not after the things he’d been forced to do with those lips. He couldn’t bear to taint her. He shook his head at her, fighting to hold back the tears that were attacking him once again, and hurried off to his room._

“Ahhhh yes~” Kelvin moans, nibbling his way down Joker’s chest. “Move your skinny little hips faster, my lord.” His eyes are closed, imagining the Phantomhive boy sobbing over him, bouncing up and down on his erection, his tiny hole stretched beyond its limits.

He never sees Joker there, anymore, covered in fine scars from fingernails and teeth from collarbone to kneecaps, old enough to be off and married on his own but instead—here—scrunched down, letting Kelvin’s cock flop in and out of him lazily, biting back the tears.

It takes a long, long time for Kelvin to finally cum. The thin, white ooze of an old man dribbles up Joker’s crack and then splats downward sickeningly.

He crawls backward off of Kelvin’s lap and goes to retrieve the cloth they use to wipe up. With his trembling left hand, Joker cleans Kelvin thoroughly and then tucks him into bed. “Goodnight, father,” he says, trying with all of his might to keep the tears from showing in his voice, just like the polite, obedient _son_ that he’s expected to be.

But Lord Kelvin never says anything. He never even opens his eyes.

And when Joker goes back to the others he will say nothing, as well. He’ll smile like always and put on a wonderful show, because that’s what a ringleader ought to do. Right?


End file.
